Awakening Memories Discontinued
by KaindeAmedha419
Summary: Set at the end of the movie, what consequences would arise if things ended up differently? Van Helsing must follow Dracula to learn their shared past, which might have been more than he was expecting... GabrielDrac AU story. Be kind! First story!
1. Chapter 1

Alrighty, this is my first attempt at a Van Helsing fic. I hope everyone likes it so far, questions and comments are welcome, it helps to see where the story is going to go!

I give a thousand thanks to my best friend Kydasam, without her this story wouldn't even exist. If you haven't read her fics, well..you should!

Okay, okay! On with the story!

Chapter 1: Showdown

Pain. All he could feel was excruciating pain througout his entire being. Remembrance immediately took hold on his mind. Sitting up quickly, he surveyed his surroundings with keen perception, his senses heightened considerably with the taint of the werewolf running thickly through his veins. Fallen debris was everywhere throughout the lab. Some burned wickedly, the falling rain from the open ceiling causing it to hiss and crackle.

A few of Dracula's assistants, the Dwergi, gave a garbled scream as fire licked at the skin underneath their armor, consuming them. He ignored them without another thought; they weren't a threat to him anymore. The real threat was looming around outside somewhere, looking for his mangled body.

Getting up slowly, a black haze filled his vision for a few moments. Remembering the tumble he took a few minutes ago, he was lucky he hadn't broken anything.

Stumbling, holding on the the fallen metal strips for support, Van Helsing wandered around the laboratory, memorizing his surroundings in case he needed a quick escape. Eight enormous pillars stood to hold the entire structure in place. Each pillar was intricately detailed, carved out of the mountain itself. The room in all its splendor was the shape of an elongated dome, a large opening in the ceiling to allow the stretch-board to sit at the peak. Wires were everywhere in the room, he would have to be careful not to fall over them. Large pieces of equipment were scattered throughout the entire room, all connected to the main powerhouse located in the center of the cobbled stone floor. Miniature lightning bolts were contained in the revolving chamber, some straying dangerously out of line. Wooden bridges were made to ensure all the equipment above ground level was looked after.

Hearing a slight beat of wings from behind him, he whipped around to see Dracula's hellish visage descend on the stone floor. He transformed as soon as his left foot hit the floor, and the vampire lord smiled smugly at the weakened hunter.

"Were you not expecting to see me so soon, my friend?" Dracula asked coyly, the smallest pout escaping his pale lips. "You do realize you are too late, do you not? My children live." He stated the last in a triumphant manner, spreading his arms wide.

"They will not survive. I will make sure of it." Van Helsing growled, his tangled locks dripping with rain-water.

The vampire waggled a disapproving finger at him, "Are you insinuating that you are planning on killing me? Drive a stake through my dead heart? Throw holy water at me? I'm disappointed in you, My Gabriel."

"I had something else in mind, actually," the hunter said through gritted teeth. He could feel the mental pull of the wolf inside of him. It snarled viciously as it was denied, Van Helsing pushing it back to wait for the opportune moment.

"And what would that be, if I may ask?" Dracula asked, crossing his arms and putting one hand to his chin in a thoughtful manner.

"Why spoil the suprise?"

"Come now, Gabriel, such evasions are below you," the vampire lord stated, tapping his chin lightly and frowning.

"If you must know... then I will show you." Van Helsing rasped as he finally set the wolf inside him completely free, the full moon showing brightly through the window. The creature howled in pleasure as it took over, the hunter's conscious thrown to the recesses of his mind. The sound of bones breaking, shattering, and being melded back together again was sickening. Human skin was ripped apart as claws grew where fingernails once were. Fur erupted from the spine, showing the color that was black as night. A snout appeared where a mouth once resided, and needle-sharp teeth grew with each passing second. The remaining shreds of pale skin fell limply to the ground as the werewolf straightened to it's full height. The remaining fur grew in, showing a long mane of silky raven hair down to it's muscled shoulders.

"...No..no, this is not right," the vampire stated more to himself than at the werewolf. He unconsciously took a few stumbling steps backward.

The beautiful creature before Dracula stared directly into his eyes, the piercing gaze never leaving his own. Dracula stared right back, his neck craned slightly because of the werewolf's immense height. "Don't you understand? We were friends, Gabriel. Brothers!"

The creature before him only snarled viciously, saliva dripping from his fangs and onto the already-wet floor. He stepped forward on powerful hind legs, sculpted to perfection, muscles bulging.

The vampire lord tripped slightly on one of the fallen wires, but he quickly reoriented himself. "We fought together! We conquered the world together, do you not remember?"

The wolf only continued his slow forward march, his fur twitching and rippling with anticipation.

"I can rekindle your memories! Give you back the life we once shared!"

The response he got was a gutteral roar, the werewolf's canines glinting slickly with the clear liquid that slid off of them.

Dracula responded in kind with his transformation, his black waist-coat extending to wings that uncurled to a massive twenty-five foot wingspan. The rest of his clothing dissolved to an extremely pale ivory tone. Long fingernails turned to dagger-like claws, and a few added appendages appeared on either side of his wrists, each equipped with claws of their own. His chest grew broader as muscle-tone was added. His face was the most horrendous of all, with needle-sharp fangs protruding from his maw. His ears grew pointed like a bat's and at the same time his ponytail holder fell off, letting his shoulder-length ebony hair fall freely beside his neck. His nose grew wider, and near the edge, a scale of skin grew in a small triangle, pointing upwards. His eyes were striking, slitted pupils like that of a cat, and surrounding those was a piercing electric blue with the slightest hint of green. He gave an ear-splitting shriek, his tongue flicking out as spittle flew from his mouth.

The two beasts collided with each other with massive strength. The vampire fought to keep the upperhand, scratching and clawing at the werewolf's face. His wings were constantly flapping madly to keep him upright. The other threw himself at Dracula, using all of his strength to push the vampire down. He tried in vain to attack Dracula's neck with his canines, the other's clawed hand smashing into the side of the werewolf's face with enough force to crush a human skull. A piercing shriek echoed throughout the room as the wolf raked his claws down the left side of Dracula's face. The vampire threw the creature half-way across the room, picking him up in mid-air and slamming the werewolf into the nearby wall. Equipment from the lab sparked and sizzled as it was smashed and pushed out of the way.

Dracula attempted to fly to the roof, but in vain. The wolf quickly recooperated from the jarring impact and clamped his large furred hand on the vampire's foot. Dracula roared and cuffed the werewolf on the side of the head as he fell to the ground.

Bleeding and damaged, the two combatants were quickly being exhausted. Dracula's wounds were left gaping and bleeding, the blackish blood flowing down his neck freely. The werewolf venom sizzled against his skin. He couldn't handle much more, he was losing too much blood. The wolf wasn't faring much better. One of the claws on his right hand was completely torn off, blood dripping in small pools on the floor. His once beautiful mane was tangled and warped with the amount of dried blood underneath it.

Dracula contracted his stomach muscles tightly to launch himself in the air, using his powerful wings to thrust upward toward the open ceiling. A smug look came over his features as he reached the top, but was quickly replaced with a look of fear as he felt the familiar feeling of falling to the ground, helpless.

Van Helsing shook his head slightly, clearing the fog in his mind. He could remember faintly what happened when the wolf had taken over. His thoughts were pushed back as far as he would allow. Looking through the wolf's eyes, he could see the creature's actions, but could not read its thoughts.

Awareness came, and with that the revelation that something was underneath him. Pushing back the several boards of wood and wires that lay above him, he got up and whipped around, finding the vampire lord slowly making his way back up to a standing position. The first thing that Van Helsing noticed was that the wounds on Dracula's neck had grown much worse since they had been inflicted. They appeared to be infected, and the black, dried blood was blistering. It looked very painful, but the Count didn't show any sign of pain through his face.

"You pack a powerful punch, Gabriel. I admit I wasn't expecting that," Dracula stated matter-of-factly, as if he was in perfect condition, which he definitely wasn't.

Van Helsing backed up instinctively. Why wasn't the wolf aching to be let loose? He glanced out the window. Ah. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds, a slight halo surrounding the outer edges of it. Apparently the wolf preferred to be out in the moonlight only right now; perhaps that made the creature stronger?

"That was the suprise." Van Helsing replied.

Dracula looked like he was deep in thought for a second, then asked, "Whatever happened to the Gabriel I once new as a brother?"

The sudden question suprised the hunter slightly. "I do not remember who I used to be."

"Do you wish to know?" The vampire's voice was barely above a laced whisper, and it was only because of Gabriel's heightened hearing that he could hear it at all.

He wanted horribly to know the truth of his past. It was half of the reason he came here in the first place, to learn the secrets of his forgotten memories. But then he also thought that if he did know the truth, what would that do to him? Would he still be able to be the hunter he always was, always having a goal to search and find? If his past was presented to him, would he still be as passionate about he has always done?

While he had been thinking, the Count had stealthily made his way closer to Gabriel, within an arm's length.

"What do you want in return?" Van Helsing growled, not noticing the closeness.

The vampire's face looked pained, besides the horrible gashes on his face and neck. "What we once had, perhaps? What had been stripped from me?"

"I don't understand."

Van Helsing blinked, and Dracula was gone. "Do you wish to understand?" The vampire replied as he reappeared on the pillar next to Gabriel. The hunter whirled around to face him, but he had disappeared again. "Would you believe me if I told you?" Dracula's question was soft in the hunter's ear, and the cold breath against Gabriel's skin made him shudder unconsciously. Van Helsing felt a hand come around his neck and stroke the skin over his pulsing vein.

The wolf inside of Van Helsing immediately responded with the contact. It snarled and howled to be let out, clawing and slashing at Gabriel's mind. His knees buckled and he felt the stab of pain throughout his entire body as it tried to take over.

"I might." Van Helsing replied in ragged breaths, he continued, "If it was the truth."

Dracula came to the front of his vision again, his eyes sparkling, "But of course."

The wolf took over then, impatient in it's lust for vampire blood. Dracula transformed as well, albeit a little slower from the lack of blood. They collided for the second time that night, each fighting for their own right to survive.

After what seemed like hours of non-stop flight and bloodshed, Dracula somehow managed to reach the opening in the ceiling. Rain pelted his bloodstained skin, making flight that much harder. Cupping the air, he hovered over the tower.

Seconds later the wolf followed, snarling at the hovering vampire, slashing at the air as it jumped after the bat. The wolf nearly slipped off the slick tower, pieces of wood falling to the foot of the mountain, a few thousand feet below.

Dracula shrieked his bat-like call as lightning struck near one of his wings, hitting a nearby piece of equipment. Warily he continued to hover, focusing his mind on contacting Gabriel's.

The werewolf growled deeply when it felt the slight pull as the vampire tried to enter its thoughts. Seconds later, however, the vampire moved on to the recesses of his mind, where the human sat waiting. 'Gabriel,' the vampire started, 'we will finish what we started at a later time.'

'I look forward to it,' the hunter replied in his mind.

'Perhaps you will be more cooperative the next time we meet. Next time, do try to keep your little dog under conrol?' Dracula chuckled lightly to himself at that last statement before he abruptly left Van Helsing's mind.

Dracula bowed mockingly as he continued to hover. The wolf snarled and roared as the vampire flew off into the mountains, abandoning his castle and his guests.

Lightning continued to strike along the castle walls and towers. The exhausted wolf glared at the retreating figure until it finally drifted out of his sights.

tbc...?

Was it good? Bad? Read and Review, I beg you!


	2. Chapter 2: Aftermath

Chapter 2: Aftermath

"Are we there yet?" Carl asked timidly, cowering and running to Anna's side as soon as he saw something move. Flames from candles created an eerie glow, their shadows jumping over the icy stones.

"No Carl," Anna replied, a hint of irritation at the edge of her voice. Her heels clicked loudly against the floor, each step echoing up and down the staircase as they ascended. Carl's shuffling feet could be heard also, but were slightly muffled.

Countless bruises and cuts adorned Anna's once perfect complexion. A large knot throbbed on her forehead, and she could almost feel it start to turn an ugly purple. The deep gash in her right cheek stung horribly, the cold that numbed it helped only slightly.

She was extremely relieved when she felt that stake drive right through the heart of that horribly mannered vampire, Aleera. Anna wouldn't flat out say she brought pleasure in watching her whither and die, but it was a relief. One less vampire was always a relief.

The only thing on her mind now, though, was Van Helsing. Anna guessed the only reason she kept going at this point was to see his face again. Seeing the full moon outside the occasional glass-paned window only made her increase her pace.

"Would you slow down, please? My legs can only handle so much you know." Carl exclaimed, grabbing her arm and panting lightly.

Anna looked down sharply at him, but her face softened when she realized that her friend was indeed having troubles. "Sorry," was all she said, slowing down her pace so he could keep up.

"Oh, don't be sorry, just slow down a bit." Carl tried to smile, but Anna's demeanor made him frown. "What's wrong?" Carl asked, but quickly came up with the answer when she glanced at him through the corner of her eye. "It's Van Helsing, isn't it? Well, you need not worry about him, he's been through worse than this. Why, I remember that one time when he came back from that one mission, something concerning gargoyles and gnomes... Anyway! He was patched up and limping for weeks! And still he went off on another mission! Ah, Van Helsing is a stubborn fellow, indeed!" He chuckled as he remembered the memories he had shared with the hunter. It was a long list, he had been making his inventions and weaponry for Van Helsing to use for quite some time.

"Carl, shush." Anna said, attempting to keep him quiet, just in case something came to attack them from around corners just because they could hear Carl's loud babbling halfway throughout the castle.

"Oh, right, sorry." He said, blushing lightly.

"Don't be sorry, Carl, just stop talking," She glanced down at him, smiling and showing perfect white teeth. Carl beamed back, glad that he could cheer her up some.

The staircase abruptly opened up to a split hallway. Carl began shuffling to the left, but Anna stopped him. "We should go to the right," she said quietly.

"Why?" He asked, also whispering.

"Because there is another staircase to the right, and we need to go up to the highest level in the castle," she replied simply.

"...Oh. Right."

The friar had just started humming a soft, cheerful tune when they finally reached the top of the staircase, the steps opening to show a large set of double doors. Anna thought she heard a slight "Oh my" from Carl, his little head craning to see the tops of the doors, a good fifty feet above them.

"How do you get in?" Carl asked.

"_We_ push," Anna replied, giving Carl a look.

"Right. Let's get to it then," he said, rolling up his long sleeves, but as soon as the icy chill attacked his skinny arms, he thought better of it and started rubbing them instead.

Putting their hands on either door, they pushed. Defying the look of the door, they actually opened with ease. Walking through, the doors closed by themselves. Wood and debris was scattered everywhere.

"Where's Van Helsing?" Carl asked, looking around at the broken equipment, and the pools of dried blood on the floor.

"Where's Dracula?" Anna asked, seeing a broken window at the other end of the room.

They walked on in caution, wary of everything that moved. Anna kneeled to inspect the ground, an entire fight scene coming alive before her eyes. Scratches cut into stone on the walls and the floor. Black blood mixed with rain-water, the liquid settling in the cracks between the stones. Clumps of black fur lay scattered around the room. Moving to the window where the full moon could be seen glowing in all its splendor, a pile of skin lay rumpled on the ground. Picking it up with fore-finger and thumb, she quickly discarded it when she realized it was Van Helsing's skin. But there was no blood. Van Helsing changed to his werewolf then, the black fur proved that. But what of Dracula? They must have fought viciously, pools of the black liquid was everywhere. Though there was blood, there were no ashes anywhere where she could see. The vampire must still live, then. But if that was true, where was Van Helsing?

"Anna! Over here! Quickly!" Carl's voice held a frantic air, and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet when she arrived.

Van Helsing lay, unconscious, on the floor. He rested on a pile of black fur, apparently the wolf had allowed him to take over again. Huge gashes adorned his naked skin, blood still flowing in places where the cuts were deeper. Anna kneeled next to his resting face, her hand sifting through his tangled locks. Red stained her hand when she pulled back.

"Is he alright? What do you think happened?" Carl asked frantically over her shoulder.

"He's unconscious, that's all. He is breathing," Anna replied. She put two fingers to his throat, "His pulse is weak, we have to get him out of here. From everything that I see around the room, the wolf inside him took over, and wolf and vampire collided. Dracula is still alive, and from the looks of the room, he is as wounded and injured as Van Helsing is, if not worse."

"What are we going to do? Should we use the antidote now? And what about Dracula's spawn?" Carl's blue orbs looked pleadingly at Anna, it was obvious he was just as worried about Van Helsing as she was.

"Let's wait on the antidote for a little while, wait for Van Helsing to come back and tell us what happened; we'll go from there. As for Dracula's children, let's worry about them later, I'm sure the people of the village can handle themselves for a little while. Alright, let's get moving."

Valerious mansion overlooked the tiny village in Transylvania, its intimidating walls of brick and stone making the wooden houses look feeble and weak. Snowflakes floated down the grayish sky, settling either on dark treetops, the already white ground, or on one of the many crooked houses in the village. The moon's reflected rays gave the snow an unearthy glow that illuminated the entire village.

Surrounding the town to the west and north was the Transylvanian Alps, their peaks invisible under the grayish haze and snow-capped summits. Their ragged appearance was intimidating. Along the town's east side, a large, flowing river lapped at the bricks of the mansion. Crooked, dead trees rocked gently in the icy wind, and snow settled in the crooks of their branches.

Set in the middle of the town, was a deep well, where only a few days before, one of Dracula's brides had hidden in. Along one side of the well was a concrete podium, where the Princess of Gypsies had stood the same day the brides had attacked. Crates were scattered throughout the area, filled with goods.

A few sounds of laughter, arguing, and just plain conversation could be heard if one listened with open ears. The most social of all was of course the bar. Occasionally, someone would drift outside of their respective house, staggering only slightly to the town commonplace. Once inside, one could see men drinking gaily everywhere throughout the room. A few delt their own set of cards at certain tables, hoping to gain a small amount of money from their peers. Young and old alike sat along the stools at the bar counter, the color of their drinks varied. One drunken young man attempted to sway the barmaid, the redhaired young woman looking oddly at the man while she casually leaned against the counter. A few men sat somewhat quietly at a table, occassionaly drinking from their mugs, deep in conversation. Every now and then conversation would drop, only to roar in laughter as someone let a little something loose.

A man in his late-thirties walked through the door, another average joe coming in to get the nightly drink or two. He sat down at an open stool at the bar.

"The usual, Ronnie?" the bartender asked in thick Romanian, drying a mug with his towel.

"Naw, just a glass of water is fine, thanks Stephan," the man replied, fiddling with a toothpick.

"Sure thing." He returned with his glass of water after helping another man at the other end of the bar. "Somethin' wrong, Ron?"

Ronnie raked a large, dirty hand through his already tousled black hair, "Just the wife, that's all. She won't come outside for the life of her. I dunno what's wrong, she just told me to go out for awhile."

The bartender nodded thoughtfully, "Must be a woman thing."

Ronnie nodded, taking a sip of his water, "I guess."

Suddenly the entire bar went silent. Everyone sat stock still, listening. "Didya hear dat?" Someone asked, his words slurred from the amount of alchohol running through his veins. They all listened, while a brave young fellow, not too drunk to walk, opened the door, jumping back afterwards like the doorknob was on fire. Craning their ears, they heard the beat of many wings, and screeching.

"Vampires!" This one word had the same effect as someone sitting at a play and suddenly yelling "FIRE!" People, drunk or sober, jumped from their seats, rushing to be the first out the door and safely to their homes. A few tripped on their way out, their bodies being trampled by the many feet passing overhead.

Once outside, everyone could clearly see the hundreds of fledglings making their way through the mountains, towards the small village. "It's the vampire's spawn! Quickly, go fetch the nets and bottles!" The bartender yelled to the barmaid. Her gray eyes were wide, her red locks sticking to the side of her face. A few moments later, she rushed back outside, nets and bottles in hand.

Ronnie, one of the few who were trampled during the stampede-like chaos, rushed out to help the bartender. His clothes were ripped and torn, and in some spots adorned shoe-prints.

People gradually began to stop running like maniacs, and started to think like clear-minded people. Seeing the objects in the bartender's hand, they swiftly went inside their own homes, looking for things to attack the fledglings with. They came back out with clubs, pitchforks, torchs, and chains. Soon the whole town had assembled all the weapons they could in the short amount of time that was given to them. The women and children stayed safely in the houses, cowering in closets and under tables.

The rest of the town citizens watched with silent awe, the fledglings gaining ground, and fast. At first, the only thing that could be seen was white-gray blurs moving as one against the mountain landscape, but as they came closer, each gigantic, ugly bat could be seen with amazing clarity.

Scanning ears were enormous against the size of the head, a light pastel pink coloring the insides of each ear. Slitted, bulging eyes were a pale yellow and portrayed a menacing threat when looked directly into. The nose was small, set directly between the eyes. A wide mouth held tiny, needle-sharp teeth. The canines were the longest and close together, and extra flaps on the lower jaw allowed even more teeth to sink into warm flesh. An extremely short neck gave way to small shoulders and excessively long and skinny arms. Two of their four fingers were a good twelve inches, though each fingertip was equipped with a deadly, sharp talon. Flaps of white skin wrinkled over the ribcage, giving it a shriveled look. Slender legs were slightly shorter than the arms, their knees also heavily wrinkled. Their toes were the same length as their fingers, toenails sharp, if not sharper than the claws on the fingertips. Body-size wings were attached to their backs, the thin flap of skin fused at the junction of the knee. A three foot long tail swung limply behind their legs.

The mob of bats viciously attacked the citizens of the town with no mercy. They were out for fresh blood, and they were hungry. A few cowardly men tried to run to their homes, only to be immediately picked up by two or three fledglings, their fangs sinking in the flesh wherever they could find it.

Throwing numerous empty glass bottles, a few hit their targets. Time seemed to slow down when that first bottle slammed into the head of a fledgling that wasn't paying attention, watching the massacre with detached interest. A dull thud resounded throughout the village, and the bat dropped like a dead rat. It lost consciousness for a few precious seconds, but it was immediately burnt alive as someone set it on fire.

Stephan used his home-made net to ensnare a fledgling, slamming it into the ground and jumping on it, hearing the satisfying pop as its tiny back was snapped in two.

Ronnie caught the tail end of one, bringing it to the muddied ground. Its arms and legs flailed as its wings were absorbed into the mud. Before the man could put the thing out of its misery, it took a few slices of skin and muscle in its grasp, blood flowing freely down his arm. He screamed in anguish and pain, his howl mixed with the rest of the townspeople as they were chased throughout the village. A renewed sense of vigor coursed through his veins, and he stomped on the head of the horrendous creature until the skull was completely flattened in the soft mud.

A few more bats fell before their brains finally caught up with them. A drunken man lofted up an empty glass bottle, a fledgling grabbing it tightly between its claws before it fell. Talons screeched against the glass like fingernails on a chalk board. Snarling, the bat dove at the man that threw the bottle, chucking it back at him with amazing velocity. He was out cold in less than five seconds. More monsters flew in to share the new flesh.

When Stephan attempted to catch another bat within his net, the creature fought back, pulling the net's handle out of the bartender's grasp. The fledgling snapped the netting with its sharp teeth, crunching the wooden handle under its claws.

Immediately seeing that their efforts were in vain, the citizens scrambled back to their homes. A few made it safely with minor injuries, others weren't so lucky. One had just made it to his doorstep when the bat's attacked him, wrenching the man from the ground and suckling greedily wherever blood flowed freely.

Ronnie, his left arm still bleeding profusely, swatted at a few of the monsters while he ran for the safety of his own home. Glancing back, he saw four salivating fledglings right on his tail. Keeping his eyes forward after that, he stopped dead in his tracks when two more appeared in his path. They hovered for a few seconds, looking at one another before they all snarled, showing ugly teeth as they charged. The last thing he saw was the horrified expression of his wife looking through their window.


	3. Chapter 3: Healing

Alright, here's chapter three! Thank you so much for all of you who reviewed my story this far, believe it or notthey can actually change the story around quite a bit.

Disclaimer: Van Helsing and all of its characters do not belong to me, but if they did...the movie would have ended a LOT differently.

Chapter 3: Healing

Sitting atop an old abandoned church, a new statue stood, unwavering. There were no chips or dents where the others around it were slowly falling apart from erosion. Angels with beautiful feathered wings looked down on the church, their wings clipped from the years of weathering. However, this particular statue was demonic, and its visage was quite hellish.

The crumbling holy relic looked over the town of Sighisoara, on a lone hill outside of town. Wind blew in occasionally, the branches from a long-dead tree scratching and howling at the broken glass windows of the church. One of its walls was slowly caving in on itself, the junction between the roof and the vertical structure groaning under the uneven weight.

Suddenly, the statue moved, but it was ever so slight. In a crouching position, the statue's arms grasped at the roof to stay upright. Looking closer, quite a bit of movement could be seen. The creature's left wing twitched, creating a rippling effect throughout the entire membrane. Clawed feet shifted weight after a time. A few strands of pitch black hair fell over the beast's eyes, but he made no attempt to move them back again. Gashes adorned the creature's flesh, blood glistening as it continued to flow slowly downward. A few precious drops fell to the rooftop as he shifted again.

Dracula looked over the town with keen interest, eyeing the citizens with deep aspiration. Slitted, blue orbs danced as they sighted on countless men and women. What little blood remained in his system rushed to his fang roots, making them ache painfully, eventually subsiding to a dull throb. He turned his head to the side slowly, his large bat ears picking up the slightest sounds from below.

He moved then, stealthily crawling down the side of the wall, the church's frame moaning under the colassal weight shift. Dracua hissed vehemently when his wounds objected with the movements, the gashes burning like hell's fire. The vampire lord had four-hundred years of experience in stealth, and now he put it all to use. His eternal life depended on it.

He also knew that if he transformed back into his human form, he would be too weak to make a silent kill. His visage itself was enough to make grown men run in fear. If a cry was let out, then he would be shot on sight. The vampire lord probably wouldn't die from the shots, but his body wasn't at its strongest right now.

He had come to the city where he was born, in 1422. He hadn't been here in over a century. Things had changed quite a bit since then. It looked happy, almost, where the usual Romanian city was gloomy and gray. It looked somehow more modern, but he wasn't about to go sightseeing. He had been all over town when he was a child, running up and down the cobbled streets with no worries. That was before he was turned into a warrior, someone who could fight for hours without thought of being tired. It was even before he had thoughts of once becoming a vampire, when his mind was innocent and untainted. He had fought the Turks back then, when they were attempting to take hold of Wallachia, and Transylvania. That was also when he first saw Gabriel...

Waiting patiently for all of the townspeople to pass by, he moved on two swift legs to the back of a run-down building. Dracula used all the muscles in his back to contract his wings as tightly as he could; the enormous appendages were quite eyecatching when extended. They would only slow him down at this point anyway.

The building itself was a mess. It looked as if it could fall in on itself at any moment. A slight wind came through, moving the leaves on trees harmlessly. The structure creaked and groaned a reply. The foot of snow covering its bent roof didn't help to keep the building on its feet. Dracula didn't dare attempt to go inside. With his luck right now, it would cave in the second he took a step inside it.

Moving silently into a dark alleyway, he waited. If one looked hard enough in the dark abyss, they would be able to see two electric blue orbs staring right back with enough intensity to bore a hole through a skull. Occasionally the slitted eyes would blink slowly, and just as slowly open back up again.

Dracula could literally feel his life's blood seeping out of his body and pooling in the hard clay below.

Finally, after almost an hour of patient waiting, a young man came around a corner and walked on the cobbled street, his eyes darting this way and that. The vampire lord growled pleasurably, an inaudible growl too low for human ears to register. The human was wary, his nervousness and fear assaulting Dracula's senses. The perfect victim.

Using his heightened senses to make sure no one else was in the viscinity, the vampire came out of his alley and fell in step with the human. The man was extremely jumpy, perhaps one of his own had attempted to turn him. Or perhaps the man was just paranoid. Dracula almost laughed to himself, the human was fidgity, but he never once looked behind him. This was almost too easy.

The man stopped suddenly, but just stood there. The vampire lord stopped when he did, almost instantaneously. Human or not, Dracula had to give him credit that he could feel the vampire's presence.

Dracula could almost grasp the fear in his claws, seeping like molasses and settling on the ground like a heavy mist. He licked his needle-sharp fangs with practiced ease, his fang roots throbbing more and more with each passing second.

The man turned around sharply, but nothing was there. Suddenly he felt a deathly cold, clawed hand close tightly around his throat, effectively cutting off his air supply. Gaping like a fish out of water, his eyes bulged out as the death's hand tightened. Black clouded his vision, and just as he thought he was going to fall unconscious, the hand loosened enough to allow some oxygen through. A second later his eyes were assaulted with the sight of the most horrible creature he had ever seen.

The vampire lord quickly slinked off to the alleyway, making sure to keep a tight enough hold on his prey to keep him from screaming. Once back into darkness, Dracula inhaled the wonderful scent of anxiety and fear. He attempted soothing words to his prey, but his elongated teeth and jaw only produced garbled words and incoherant nonsense.

Dracula swiftly moved his clawed hand to the victom's mouth to keep him from yelling out, the human's neck was already turning purple and blue from the tight hold. Unable to hold back any longer, the hell-beast sank his needle-sharp fangs into the young man's jugular. The vampire had to keep himself from moaning out loud as the wonderful crimson liquid ran down his throat, insantly warming the pit of his stomach. Suckling greedily, he made sure not to let a single precious drop escape his grasp, lest it should go to waste. He could taste the fear and apprehension in the man's life blood, the unique combination of emotions and thoughts sending Dracula's mind and body into euphoria.

Four hundred years of eternal life and he had never once tasted the same combination of emotions. Each donor had a unique taste, whether it be age, stress, emotions, whatever.

The vampire lord savored the taste as he continued to suckle. Letting the precious blood settle in his mouth for a few moments, he made the precise guess that the young man was halfway between the age of twenty-nine and thirty. The perfect age.

He felt all of the man's blood seep into his veins, warming the tips of his extremities. He felt the satisfaction of warmth for a short while before the crimson liquid settled and cooled again. His fangs retracted swiftly, unlatching his lips unwillingly from the donor's neck. The man had long since gone unconscious and died. Dracula had greedily accepted every drop the man could produce, licking his blood-stained lips with immense satisfaction.

Dropping the emptied corpse with indifference, the hell-beast inhaled and let out a deep sigh with the air of a well-fed cat. It was a habit of his, to inhale unneeded air; he had had the habit even before he had been turned centuries ago. Closing his eyes, he stretched out his wings and arms, letting the still-warm blood drift out to his wingtips.

He was startled out of his long-awaited stretch by a small girl. Clutching a teddy bear tightly in the crook of her arm, she trembled and stared at the beast like a deer in headlights. She wore a long, light pink nightgown over her small body. Dracula stared curiously at her with a closed mouth, his fangs hidden behind his blood-stained lips. If she screamed, he would show no compassion in making sure she never screamed again.

But she just stared back at his thoughtful gaze, his electrifying blue eyes keeping her attention. She looked to be the age of around three or four. She was rather short for her age, the stuffed bear's foot touching the ground as she stood there. And before her eyes, he transformed back to the well-known pale face and slicked back raven hair. She gasped a little, only a small intake of breath at the quick change. She still kept her silence, intrigued more than frightened.

"M-mister?" She asked tentatively, attempting communication.

The vampire lord was slightly suprised. Never before had someone attempted to talk to him civilly after seeing his demonic side. Hell, no one had ever lived to attempt to talk to him, besides Gabriel of course. He ventured, "Yes?"

"I promise I won't tell anyone, mister." This young girl was obviously still too innocent to understand the terrors of what lurks in the shadows. Hadn't her parents told her the dangers of being outside after dark?

Dracula nodded. "Alright." He bowed shortly to the child, his hands clasped behind his back. The vampire turned on his heel sharply, walking to the back of the alleyway and towards the back of the run-down building.

Transforming as soon as he turned the corner, Dracula spread his wings and flew away from the city, and towards the abandoned church at the top of the hill. The girl watched in silence as he landed on the roof, a small black dot in the distance. She stood there for a few more moments before running back to her warm home.

Landing gracefully on the rooftop, he transformed back to his human form. In a comfortable crouching position, he began his way of healing.

Swiftly removing his heavy coat, he revealed a well-toned chest, pale with a mist of glossy black hair. He grimaced as he actually looked at his wounds. Deep gashes were blistered and swollen from where the werewolf venom had been inflicted. Whole strips of flesh were even completely torn off in places. The left side of his face and neck would look about the same.

Using his sharp pinky fingernail, he swiftly but his bangs behind his ear, not seeming to notice when it stayed in place for about three seconds, then fell back again.

He elongated his fingernails, turning them into sharp talons. Without hesitation, he used the talons to strip pieces of blistered and dead flesh to ensure he could heal correctly. The vampire winced only slightly throughout this procedure, letting the rotting flesh fall to the rooftop. He did this until he could see new, light pink skin take its place. As he healed the wound, precious blood dribbled down his arm. Before it could drop however, he unceremoneously lapped the blood back up, making sure not to lose too much.

For a good hour he did this, healing the scattered wounds and gashes in the same procedure. When he came to his face and neck, the only difference was that he needed to lap up the blood in a different way. Using his fingertips he made sure to consume all he could.

When he finished, he sighed heavily. The next problem to assess was where he was to sleep. Dracula could feel the sun start to come below the horizon. In about an hour or so, the whole town would be seeing the light of day. His reaction time was already beginning to slow, the sun's indirect rays lowering his senses only slightly.

It wasn't safe in the church, people could just walk in and attack him while he was in his daily trance. He could try to fly back to his castle, using the woods and the mountains to shade him. But his castle was half a day's flight away, he would be physically exhausted by the time he got there. The vampire lord thought to settle down in the crook of a tree in the woods. No, that was too degrading for the most feared vampire in the world, even if no one knew about it. His thoughts wandered back to the run-down building in town. Perhaps that would work, he doubted anyone would venture inside, the building was due to fall. He could create a makeshift coffin out of extra wood. It was like a wooden stake through his ego to fall to those depths, but it had to be done. It was only for one day anyway.

Dracula swiftly clothed his upper body, and with another heavy sigh, he transformed a final time and flew back toward his home-town.

...tbc.

Read and Review please! Or perhaps, if I didn't say that...you would review anyway?


	4. Chapter 4: A Slight Rekindling

This chapter is slightly shorter than the others. Okay, it's a lot shorter. I apologize, I needed to get this out before another week passed by. Marching Band and school are taking over! The next chapter will hopefully be longer to make up for it. Thanks to all of my reviewers, they help to inspire me to keep going.

Chapter 4: A Slight Rekindling

Van Helsing awoke with a start, shaking his head to clear the fog. A pounding headache sufaced immediately and thrashed against his skull. Strong hands were clamped on his shoulders. Opening his eyes slowly, he came face-to-face with Vlad.

"Why are you here?" The hunter asked defensively, completely awake.

Dracula only chuckled heartily, shaking his head at him, "I forgot you aren't a morning person." He stepped back casually to allow Gabriel leniency.

Van Helsing was leaning against a tree, the corrugated bark creating patterns in his back. Glancing around the area, reeds and ferns were scattered throughout the field. He was even in completely different clothes than he was earlier. His leather coat wasn't anywhere in sight, his gray turtle neck and leather vest were missing too. All he wore were loose-fitting black pants and a ragged looking light brown shirt. His feet were clad in light leather mocassins. They felt odd to his feet, used to the heavy black leather of modern times.

"Why are you here?" Gabriel asked again, more sternly.

Dracula looked quizzically at him now, his head slightly tilted, "I was waking you up, you dozed off. What did you think I was doing?" He was wearing a plain, white silk shirt. It was open to his sternum, exposing a well-toned chest. Tight, dark navy pants hugged his hips. Tall, slick boots went up past his calf.

Van Helsing stared at him blankly. Waking him up? What happened to the heartless vampire Dracula? What in the world was going on?

"Where am I?" Van Helsing asked sharply.

"_We_ are in a field, are we not?" Dracula replied sardonically, waving his arms in an encompassing motion. "We were supposed to return to the village an hour ago. I let you sleep in."

Van Helsing stayed firmly against the tree.

Vlad crossed his arms like an irritated mother herding her children. "Are you getting up or not? Did I not say we were supposed to be at the village an _hour_ ago? Be better hurry."

The hunter's legs lifted him up without his consent, the other man turning around and heading off in an invisable path. Gabriel followed, unsure of why he wasn't stabbing the monster in front of him with a stick.

Now that he thought about it, Dracula looked a lot younger. His usually pale skin was handsomely tanned. There were no aged wrinkles on his forehead or around his eyes or nose. What was even odder was that Vlad was in direct sunlight. He didn't seem bothered by the rays at all, not even a little bit. Gabriel even had the feeling that Dracula was enjoying it. Was he dreaming? He must be, this wasn't possible.

"Are you coming?" Vlad asked, staring at him with his eyebrow raised.

Van Helsing stumbled slightly over a hidden vine in the brush. "Yeah."

After a good deal of walking with only Vlad talking and laughing animatedly and Gabriel either nodding or replying in short answers, they came to a small river. The river itself was somewhat wide, wide enough so you couldn't just simply jump over it without a thought. But yet, it wasn't so wide that you needed something really large to cross it with. Rocks jutted out here and there as a small waterfall surged and roared by. The water was extremely fast moving, and even dangerous if swept into because of the swift current. The sides were slowly being deteriated by erosion, the process moving along much quicker because of the fast moving waterway. A small muddy cliff stood over the river on each side by about two feet.

"Let's go." Van Helsing yelled, attempting to talk over the roar of the moving water.

"There's a log not too far up where we can pass safely, Gabriel. We've been over this trail many times. Are you ill?" Dracula asked, clearly concerned.

"This is faster." Van Helsing replied simply, heading for the jutted rocks. He readied himself to hop over them. Vlad swiftly snatched his arm, pulling him back. The hunter had to resist the urge to punch the man in the face; it would have felt quite satisfying against his knuckles at the present moment.

"Are you blind, Gabriel? If you slip because of a simple error, you could be seriously injured. Not only would it put you in a bed for weeks, but you would be useless in battle."

"It's fine." Van Helsing said slowly, jerking his arm out of the other's grasp and heading back to the edge of the river.

'What are you--I--what am I doing!' The hunter yelled agrily in his mind. He was confused beyond all reason, and he loathed being confused in such dire situations. His limbs and mouth no longer obeyed him. It was as if he wasn't actually himself...

Suddenly, like a smack in the face, he realized what was going on. This was a dream sequence, of real memories from the past. His heart began gradually began to beat faster. But could these dreams be trusted? They seemed awfully real to him, he could smell everything around him and could see with amazing clarity. It was as if he was really standing there, in the past talking with his rival in civilized conversation. What the vampire had said so passionately during their fight must have been true, Vlad and the hunter were indeed best friends in the past. It was almost too much for his jumbled mind to take in, but still he watched avidly to see what was going to happen next.

If what he thought was true, then the Gabriel standing by the river's edge was much younger than what he is now. Just seeing his compulsive attitude and actions told the hunter that he was quite niave and arrogant when he was a youngster.

But of course they weren't that young. Gabriel guessed that he was roughly around twenty-three years of age. He had already started to grow out his tangled locks, and they settled at about his shoulders. His gothic style hadn't quite evolved just yet. Vlad looked slightly older, perhaps a little more than twenty-five. Vlad already had his style of fashion picked out. Even though the sun beat down heavily on the field, the older of the pair chose to wear all dark colors except for his white shirt. His hair was already slicked back into a ponytail, but it was clearly a little longer than what it is in the present, and it rested at the smooth junction of his shoulder blades. If the circumstances were different, he would have chuckled out loud at both of their naive actions, but since this was his first experience with his past, he looked on with intense curiosity.

Vlad looked on with resentment, but said nothing else. Turning on his heel, he went upstream about fifty feet where there was a small, moss-filled log.

The hunter looking out on them both, shaking his mental head. It was just plain idiotic to go out on the surging river with only small footholds on slippery rocks. What in the world was he thinking? He should have known better. Hell, he knew better! But his apparant hot-headed attitude kept him from seeing that.

Gabriel hopped skillfully onto the first rock, then the next, and the next. Water sprayed on his legs and feet, but he kept moving. The roar of the water was deafening, and even if Vlad had called out to him or vice versa, it would be drowned out only inches away from their faces, lost forever.

Dracula safely bounded over the river with the use of the rotting log, making his way to the other side to watch Van Helsing jump swiftly from one rock to the next. Vlad watched with dark, wide eyes as Gabriel nearly slipped, his left leg dragging in

current. But somehow, just as quickly as he had slipped, he had everything under control again. Dracula hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath through the whole ordeal, and he let it out with a low whistle.

Van Helsing at last hopped to the side of the river, the soggy mud beneath the grass bending a little with the added weight. After straightening his back, he crossed his arms, an extremely smug grin covering his features. "I told you it would be fine."

Vlad's reply was a indignant snort. "You were helped by luck."

"That was skill, not luck." Gabriel replied just as indignantly. He lifted his chin up high, "With no thanks to you."

Dracula narrowed his eyes vehemently, "I do not find what you did to be a proud act. It was foolish."

Gabriel only shrugged his shoulders indifferently, "It was an adventure! You need to take risks, Vlad!" He yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

"My 'adventures' are on the battlefield, where they are worthy of being called risks," the taller of the pair replied, growling lowly.

There was no reply. Looking up, Vlad noticed that the large clump of mud where the hunter had stood was gone. And so was the hunter..

"..Gabriel.."

..tbc.

Cliffhanger! I'm evil, am I not?Read and Review to find out what happens!


	5. Chapter 5: Healing Again

Alright, I'm back with a belated 5th chapter! There might be a few errors here and there, but I wanted it out tonight so I didn't forget about it. Not that I would forget about.

On with the chapter!

Chapter 5: Healing (Again)

"I'm fine, Carl. Really."

Carl snorted, shuffling closer to Van Helsing and inspecting the wounds underneath his light clothing, "No you're not! Look at these! They could get infected!"

"But they aren't," Gabriel stated.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they won't," Carl replied as he pointed his finger in front of Van Helsing's nose accusingly.

"I'll be fine." The hunter said, swatting the hands away. He winced when pressure was added to his sprained wrist.

"See! You're hurt!" Carl squeaked.

"Of course I'm hurt, Carl. I just fought Dracula, I'm bound to be hurt. The wounds will heal," Gabriel stated flatly, rubbing a bruised rib.

"Oh, I give up!" Carl huffed loudly, shaking his head as he walked off.

"That's quite an accomplishment," Anna stated at Gabriel's side.

The hunter sighed, easing back down onto his blanket. "You learn to deal with him after awhile. Then it comes as a second nature."

Anna only nodded, staring off into the misted mountains. Their camp was small, since they had almost nothing to carry. They had started a small fire, and the flames licked and sizzled against the wood, slowly burning to embers. The night was dark, the clear sky showing every twinkle of every star. The mounains were abruptly cut off by the clouds, their peaks seemingly forever hidden.

Carl had apparently gone off into the woods, most likely off to do some personal business. Van Helsing settled back down onto his blanket, closing his eyes and readying himself to sleep for the night.

Anna looked over at him at last, "How are your wounds? You seem to have a remarkable healing rate."

Gabriel kept his eyes closed, snuggling deeper into the blankets. "They're as good as wounds can be."

An akward silence hung over the two like a heavy mist.

"We should use the antidote," Anna said after several minutes.

This made Van Helsing perk up, and he sat up on his elbow, wincing noticeably as he came up. "Now?"

Without warning, an ear-piercing shriek reverberated throughout the clearing. As Van Helsing pushed himself back to a sitting position he saw Carl sprinting back toward the camp at full speed. "VAN HELSING!" His voice cracked and jumped as he ran, his robe wrapping around his legs and making him plummet to the ground. Carl continued onward, crawling like an injured animal. When he at last made it back to their make-shift camp, he was panting and wheezing. "Van Hel-sing! Th-there's f-fledg-lings in t-the woods!" His clear blue eyes were wide with fear. Then, after catching his breath, he huffed, "I was trying to do some very personal business when those horrible abominations showed up through the trees!"

"Where?" Van Helsing was attempting to stand, but Anna held him down.

"You should stay, I'll bring Carl with me to investigate," Anna said, kissing Gabriel lightly on his cheek.

Too weak to avoid the inevitable and fight to keep his pride, he fell back to the ground gracefully, sighing heavily, "Alright. I'll be right here."

Carl seemed to have settled down some, "I would hope you'd stay there, because if you leave then I'll be the one kicking your arse to get you back in bed!"

Gabriel only rolled his eyes at the overreactive friar.

"Shoot! Shoot!"

"Quiet Carl!" Anna hissed, holding her pistol at the ready, silver bullets included.

"Well I thought I saw something!" Carl hissed back. He jumped two feet in the air when he snapped a twig in two.

"Settle down," she replied softly.

Carl slumped his shoulders, inhaling slowly, and exhaling. His heart calmed to its normal rate. They moved on silently, Anna's ears picking up every sound. For every movement her eyes darted this way and that. Anna held up her hand to signal Carl to stop. The friar failed to notice it and walked right into her hand, smashing his face.

"What the bloody h--"

Anna swiftly slapped her hand to his mouth, quieting him for now. She gave him a stern look that clearly said 'Stay quiet or you might kill both of us'. He nodded shortly, his mouth still covered. Using her eyes, she showed him that there was a ruffling in the trees above them, and that a long, pale tail could be seen through the branches. Drops of some dark, thick liquid fell to the leaves on the forest floor, and when Carl bent to inspect them, he realized that it was blood. His eyes grew wide and he clung to Anna's side.

A single shot rang out seconds later, smoke filling the surrounding area. There was a high-pitched shriek before the beast fell from the tree, its dead weight dropping like a cement block. When the smoke cleared, they found that there was actually two dead creatures at their feet.

Van Helsing sighed heavily, quickly getting extremely irritated with himself. He couldn't get comfortable. Chucking small pepples out from under his makeshift bed, he plopped back down on his back. Gabriel blew his hair from his face roughly, the tangled locks falling back in place over his eyes. Growling, he manually threw them to the side with his fingers. He whimpered pitifully when he hit the finger where his nail was completely torn off. His bruised ribs ached with every breath. Every movement sent fire throughout his sprained wrist. The hunter's head throbbed with every beating of blood to his brain. He was a bloody mess.

He knew he had an amazing healing rate. He always had, and he thanked God for it everytime he thought about it.

Still, though, he wished just this once that he could heal faster.

Tilting his head to the side, Van Helsing stared blankly at the fire, watching it slowly burn itself to nothing.

Something moved to his right, and he perked up. His hazel eyes quickly adjusted to the eternal darkness, and a lone creature stood at the wood's edge.

A lone wolf.

The hunter continued to stare at the beast, sniffing the air to see if he could sense anything. Gabriel could sense nothing evil of this creature, but even so he was wary. The wolf's blazing eyes were an electrifying yellow, and they pierced the hunter to his soul. Its hide was a ragged light grey, and in places patches of fur were missing altogether. It lowered its head submissively, and it stepped forward a few paces.

Van Helsing's shoulder muscles contracted and the hairs on his neck rose.

The wolf immediately sensed the distress and halted. It stayed stock still for a minute or so and then continued forward silently. Gabriel stared right into the wolf's eyes as it continued, but this time the beast didn't stop or hesitate. Inside Van Helsing, the werewolf growled deeply, and the hunter could feel its shackles rise as the creature before him came ever closer. It finally halted about two feet away, its tail between its legs. The wolf lowered itself submissively, its head still down as far as it could go.

Gabriel snarled viciously as the werewolf attempted to take over. Reacting instantaneously the gray wolf bounded away, but stopped a few seconds later, staring at the hunter.

Clutching his chest, Van Helsing roared at the wolf inside him, somehow keeping it in check. Panting, he sank again on his blanket, officially worn out.

The near-white wolf continued to stare, and after many minutes decided to sit down.

Gabriel glared at the beast, "You sure don't make this predicament any easier."

Its thick tail wagged and it tilted its head at the weird human speech.

"I don't have any food," Van Helsing said flatly.

The wolf lowered itself, balancing its head between its forepaws and resting its belly on the frosted ground.

"Fine, stay there." Gabriel replied, "It's not like I'm going to do anything about it." He returned to staring at the fire, which had burned down and was now only glowing embers.

"...what is it?"

"It's a hare. Its throat was torn out."

Carl had to cover his mouth to keep from retching over the forest floor as he saw the massive pool of blood forming around the dead lump of flesh in front of them. When Anna had suddenly shot into the trees, Carl truly wasn't expecting her to hit anything. He mentally chastised himself, how else had she survived this long? She must have an amazing shooting accuracy, that with the sword belted at her waist, she seemed impregnable.

Picking up the tail of of fledgling, Anna swiftly picked the beast up, holding it for both of them to see clearly. Her shot was clean through the tiny heart. Carl gaped, producing no sound, acting like a fish out of water. How in the world had she shot so accurately? How could she even see the retched thing through the leaves and branches? Carl doubted even Van Helsing could do that. He mentally kicked himself again; Van Helsing could master any gun or weapon with fatal accuracy just as good, if not better, than Anna.

"What do we do with the body?" Carl asked, coming out of hiding from Anna's side.

"We leave it here. Since it is technically a vampire, it will eventually turn to ashes. It will take a little longer, I'm afraid, since it's so young." Anna discarded the fledgling with disgust.

"And what about the hare?" Carl inquired.

Anna grinned for the first time that night, "We eat it."

Once Anna and Carl had successfully re-built the fire, the hare was soon being roasted over the fiery flames. Its naked skin sizzled and popped as delicious juices ran down its sides and into the smoldering flames. By the time the food was ready, all of their stomachs were begging to be fed. They ate in silence, savoring the sweet taste of an easy, and wonderful, meal.

By the time that Anna and Carl had returned to the camp, the wolf had moved on. Van Helsing spoke to neither of the incident, finding it a good secret to keep. He was surprised the creature hadn't returned with the smell of fresh meat, but he didn't think too hard on it.

Before they would leave in the morning, he would have to remember to leave a few scraps for the poor beast.

...tbc.

What do you think? I had major writer's block for this chapter. Give me ideas with your reviews!

There's a nice little purple button right down there...push it..and type good things for this story. Thank yous!


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